


The War of Alien Aggression

by Soupernova



Category: Half-Life, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Alien Invasion, Death, Drama, Epic, Epic Battles, F/M, Gen, M/M, Sad, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2020-11-25 18:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20916827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soupernova/pseuds/Soupernova
Summary: A coalition of Extraterrestrial Powers launches a full scale invasion of Earth. Through unknown means, they succeed in lowering the level of Human weapons technology. The people of the United States are forced to dig out the old manuals and fight in a manner not unfamiliar to their great-grandfathers. Heroism, valor, and despair combine with terrible fury in the War of Alien Aggression.





	1. Preface

By the mid 1980's one could seriously make the argument of human overreliance on technology, particularly in the United States. No place was this more clear than in the military. Guided missiles, incredibly accurate bombsights, explosives of a destructive power inconceivable to those only a few generations previous.

The enemies of Humanity, beings from beyond, of great intelligence, understood this. Twice now, the entity known as "The Mindflayer" had been thwarted by the actions of a small group of heroes. This was a humiliating blow to the prestige of the Upside Down on both the Galactic and Dimensional level. Other powers now took an interest in Earth and Humanity. The planet was rich in resources and strategically located. The Galactic powers near Sol signed a treaty, agreeing to partition the upstart human planet and "enlighten" its backward people.

The only problem was that Human weapons technology, in its current state, was far too advanced for an easy conquest. However, what if the playing field could be leveled? Would Humans still be capable of resistance at an earlier level of weapons technology?

Another issue that had contributed to the Mindflayer's defeat was the culture present among Humanity.. While often portrayed in science fiction as being incredibly efficient, a hivemind had proven to be vulnerable to simple virtues and values: Loyalty, Friendship, Honor, and the willingness to sacrifice for said things.

What if the beings at the Mindflayer's disposal possessed such virtues? Or at least some of them? Could Humanity be brought to heel through such simple concepts? Could such beings as he had at his disposal even be capable of what humans called "patriotism"? Nearly two years of bloody and horrendous carnage proved the answer was "yes".

The War of Alien Aggression, as the conflict would be called on Earth, would see 1980's culture collide with 1810's warfare in a conflagration of violence the United States had nothing in living memory to compare to. Valor, heroism, and determination were present on both sides, and the actions of these brave beings would shape the future, and never be forgotten.

From a Human perspective, the war was a triumph of the Human Spirit. The defense of our dimension and planet is still celebrated, and rightly so. However, far too often, the motivation and reasoning of the opposing troops are forgotten. Why would a Demogorgon pick up a musket and fight in another dimension for a being who did not care at all whether they lived or died? To answer questions such as this, we have to understand what motivated soldiers of imperial powers throughout history. The words read in letters from a soldier loyal to the Upside Down or the Covenant are nearly indistinguishable from those written by Humans in any war.

The mass slaughter and terrible suffering of this war are still remembered, and old wounds seldom heal. I hope this humble author's work will contribute to healing, mutual understanding, and above all: peace. Remember the fallen and their sacrifices. But do not forget that sacrifice was not species-limited.

This document will tell the story of this conflict from the eyes of those who fought in it. Those remembered, those forgotten. Those condemned, those revered. This is their story…


	2. Invasion

Indianapolis, USA

October 25th, 1985

Day 5 of the Invasion

Corporal Alexander Gallagher was roused from his sleep by his sergeant. It was not yet daylight outside his tent, and it was bitter cold.

"Gallagher, wake up. The Colonel wants everyone assembled."

Alexander nodded, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. He was exhausted. All the previous two days had been spent drilling. Drill and more drill, occasionally interrupted with shooting or bayonet practice. He never expected he would ever need to fight with a bayonet, but that seemed a likely possibility since The Event occurred. In his three years of service in the 151st Infantry Regiment in the Indiana National Guard, Gallagher had proudly prepared to fight for his country. _ Prepared _. The much feared Third World War never materialized. 

Instead, something happened that no one except the Eggheads responsible for it could have predicted: an invasion by extraterrestrials. What's more, the invaders had wiped the tech level of Earth, which is why he now carried a smoothbore musket that would not have been unfamiliar to his ancestors in The Revolution.

Alexander got up and stretched. If the usually distant and reserved Colonel Stephen Maxwell had something to tell the men in person, the chances were it was important. Gallagher put on his uniform, forage kap, and greatcoat and went out into the early morning air. He looked like an anachronism of the highest order, wearing a uniform identical to the Union in the Civil War.

In front of the command tent stood the colonel. His face was hard to read, and Alexander could not tell if the news was good or bad. He didn't have long to wait, as Maxwell began to speak to the gathered crowd of sleep-deprived soldiers, “Men of the 151st! President Reagan has made a declaration: The invaders are to be repelled at all costs! The territory of the United States, land of the free, is to be liberated to the last inch. The aliens who now violate Liberty’s sacred soil are to be punished. The counterattack has begun, and will carry the invaders to their graves!”

The Colonel paused for a moment to allow the effect of the proclamation to sink in, then continued, “Gentlemen, we are being sent to Hawkins. The invaders from the Upside Down haven taken over the lab there. Our orders are to garrison the town and prepare to attack them. I have no doubt every one of you will prove yourselves worth 100 of those alien bastards. However, this _ will _be a tough fight. I expect every man to do his duty, and to prove my confidence in you is fully justified. Get some sleep men, there are hard days ahead. Thank you all. Dismissed.”

Gallagher did not yet know it, but Maxwell had just made the understatement of the century…

\---

Katsuragi Residence, just outside 

NERV Headquarters

Los Angeles, California

October 30, 1985

Shinji Ikari woke up from a dead sleep. He yawned and looked towards his alarm clock, then remembered it wasn't there. "Dammit", he said under his breath. He was still not used to the lack of technology, and didn't think he would be for quite a while yet. The Event had occurred less than two weeks ago, and he was already feeling the loss of technology.

He had also been following the news of the war with great alarm. There had been a skirmish outside of Sacramento, and two on the Oregon border. The invaders in this area had announced themselves as troops of the Galactic Empire, and claimed they were here to "bring order". To Shinji, it seemed their idea of order was very flawed. Order doesn't include fleeing columns of refugees and the shelling of towns by howitzers.

Shinji's father was the former Japanese Attache to a joint training exercise between the United States Military and the Japanese Self Defense Forces. He was now head of NERV, and not at liberty to discuss the full extent of the crisis.  _ Not that he would talk anyway _ . Shinji was staying with Misato, head of the day to day operations of NERV. His father, distant at the best of times, was now absent essentially always.  _ His father only ever cared about his work _ .

Shinji shook the thought from his head, and went to fix coffee. As he started a fire in the fireplace, he thought about his friends, Toji and Kensuke. Their families were also NERV staff, and became fast friends with Shinji. Both had mentioned their families looking more and more stressed as the days went by, and being very hesitant to talk about anything political or military related.

Shinji's father was implacable and never showed stress in any form, but even without his friends' input, it was obvious that the United States was already losing control of the war. Even without a major action, the reality of war was already becoming brutally clear. The casualty lists and columns of wounded seen coming into Los Angeles were a clear sign of things to come.

Class had been cancelled temporarily due to the war, and Shinji had plenty of time to himself. This was a blessing and a curse, as he did not do well at all without structure. However, being able to avoid people was also a positive, and he was able to read in peace. He had also started writing a war diary at the advice of Kensuke, who had read more than one in his time.

Shinji began to grind coffee, taking time to do it right. He had become a coffee fanatic recently. It sure as hell beat the drinking of Misato. When he finally finished his cup, he got up and went to take a walk. Walks cleared his mind, and his mind could sure do with some clearing.

Outside, there were men in uniform seemingly everywhere. A band was playing "Stars and Stripes Forever" nearby, and handsome officers with sabers at their sides strutted about. These men also had no idea of what they had in store for them...


	3. Preparation

Hawkins, Indiana

November 3rd, 1985

Jim Hopper set his cup of coffee down on his desk. It had been a hell of a week. He never trusted the feds since all the nonsense at the lab, yet now he had a U.S. Army adjutant assigned to him. Lieutenant Daniel Hayes was an idealistic and inexperienced man of 22. Hopper knew the young officer was in way over his head, but nonetheless found his enthusiasm refreshing.

Since the first day of the invasion, Hawkins lab had been under hostile control. Demogorgons were occupying the lab, with more arriving every day. Their engineering could be heard in town, as they dug in and moved artillery into position. However, they had not fired a shot. It seemed plain as could be to Hopper what they were doing, waiting until they were at full strength before moving. Nevertheless, the army did not listen to his advice to attack immediately. Time was not on their side, and the longer they waited, the longer the odds would be.

More and more American troops had been arriving over the past month, and Hawkins now had more soldiers in it than civilians. In all, three corps were to be in position before the attack was to begin. For now, the aliens and humans merely monitores each others' progress with curiosity. Insults in their respective languages were exchanged, but not a shot had been fired in anger.

Despite his opinion of the United States Government as a whole, and the military in particular, he felt a sense of pride at the sight of the Indianan troops in their tall hardee hats. A new Regiment, the 3rd Indiana, was being raised in Hawkins and the surrounding area, and Hopper was currently writing paperwork recommending a commander. A knock at the door interrupted his pondering, "Enter!" he called out.

Callahan entered the room, "Morning Chief, I have a letter for you from the Defense Department. It looks important." Hopper opened the letter and began to read. What he read shocked him almost as much as the need to replace his revolver with a flintlock. At the recommendation of Hayes, he was to take command of the 3rd Indiana Volunteers, effective immediately. In addition, the Hawkins Police Department was to be merged with the regiment, and the town put under military jurisdiction.

Hopper threw the letter aside. He had decidedly mixed emotions. On the one hand, his town was under martial law and he had just been drafted. On the other, the military seemed to be finally getting off its ass and acting.

Also, to be quite honest, Colonel Jim Hopper had a nice ring to it. He began to hum, "You don't Mess Around with Jim" to himself, and made a mental note to see a tailor for his new uniform. He walked out of his office with a new spring in his step, and was met with a small gathering. Joyce, Jonathan, Nancy, Will, Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Eleven were all there.  _ Oh no. _ They had a cake.  _ Oh no no. _ They had a sign which read, "Congratulations Colonel".  _ Oh no no no. _

Hopper found himself smiling uncontrollably, "Either my conscription is common knowledge, or a new KFC just opened". This brought laughter from everyone. Joyce spontaneously embraced him, much to his surprise.  _ Maybe being a colonel won't be so bad after all _ .

After the impromptu celebration, Hopper went to take command of his regiment. They were assembled next to Hawkins High, on the football field. As he approached, a fife and drum band struck up "Hell on the Wabash" and cheers resounded from the assembled men. Hopper smiled and spoke with the elected NCOs. Steve Harrington and Jonathan Byers were both Sergeants, which Hopper saw as good. They both had experience facing aliens, and would certainly aid in briefing the others.

Hopper appointed Powell as Major and Callahan as Captain, as he knew the worth of both men. His troops did not want for enthusiasm in the least, but were very undisciplined and poor shots. Hopper realized with irritation that drilling would be the name of the game for the foreseeable future.

And so it went. Every day for the next two weeks consisted almost entirely of drilling. Hopper watched with pride as his men (and himself) slowly but surely learned the trade of war.

On November 20th, he knew they had it down. Every man performed with perfect precision, and marched as if with one mind. On that day, the new flag of the regiment was unfurled, and everyone broke into an enthusiastic rendition of the Star Spangled Banner.  _ How could anyone stand against men such as these? _ That question would be answered soon.

\---

November 21, 1985

Shinji looked at the morning newspaper with serious concern. The headline read: "Major Engagement in Fresno! At Least 9,000 American Casualties! Enemy Beaten Back!" As he started to read the details of the battle, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. When he opened it, he saw Kensuke and Toji standing there, looking very excited.

"Hey Shinji! Can we come in?" Kensuke said, in a tone that stated something big had happened. Shinji ushered them inside. Shinji sat on the sofa, but the others remained standing, Kensuke pacing nervously and Toji looking just as excited.

"Guys, what's up?" Shinji asked.

"I can't believe you haven't heard!" Toji exclaimed, but before he could continue, he was interrupted by Kensuke.

"Our government has sent a military mission here! Two whole corps! I can't wait to see them! One of the units of the 2nd Corps is the NERV Brigade! Can you believe it! Our own agency is putting troops in the field!"

Shinji was overwhelmed with Kensuke's enthusiasm as usual, but he had to admit the cheery attitude was very nice. Toji spoke now, "Some of our old classmates have family in the regiment, and are coming as well. All reserves have been called up. Looks like it will be quite the party here."

Shinji pondered that. He had never been close with any of his other classmates, and was a bit worried about old drama. The three passed the time playing board games and trying not to reminisce about T.V. Kensuke and Toji chattered about how hot American women were, what they would do if they were rich like Hollywood Stars, and (Kensuke at least) gushed about how fascinating the differences between uniforms of different regiments were. Shinji feigned interest. He was thinking about the war, and what would happen if it came here. If Kensuke was to be believed, the US and Japanese troops would give the aliens the bayonet and drive them back to their home planet. Shinji was not optimistic. He feared life under occupation, and wondered if he would be part of one of those refugee columns.

Kensuke and Toji left around eight, leaving Shinji alone with his thoughts. He had a quiet dinner, and went back to his room, feeling melancholy.  _ By god he wanted his Walkman again.  _ Music always helped him to unwind and think. He would have to get a gramophone sometime, so he could listen to  _ something _ .

In the distance, he could hear a military band playing "The Battle Cry of Freedom". He strained to hear it as much as he could, trying to enjoy some sound besides that of his own breathing. He was asleep before the song ended.


	4. We Who Are About to Die

Hawkins, Indiana

December 1st, 1985

The first shell to explode in Hawkins crashed into a vacant lot. No one was hurt, but it was soon followed by others. Not too many, it was a harassing fire, not a barrage. Nonetheless, to Hopper’s simultaneous dread and relief, the timetable for the attack was moved up substantially. They would now attack with only two corps, the date being set for December 5th.

Hopper knew there was a damn good chance that many of his men would not survive the week, and was not sure how he should feel. The reality of their situation was becoming apparent. It was not a game any longer. With every passing day, Hopper felt as if his life was slipping away.

For the first time in a long while, he revised his Will and Testament. He didn't have much, but he decided that leaving the majority of his money to the Byers' was the least he could do for them. Thoughts of his own mortality now plagued him more than once a day, and he could no longer suppress them. He wondered how the rest of his troops were feeling, and guessed they were having similar thoughts.

_ Ah what the hell. I survived worse than some reenactor’s wet dream.  _ Hopper was determined to give back to the invaders a taste of what they had given the people of Hawkins. Revenge may be petty, but damn was it a powerful motivator.

\---

Will Byers was weeping openly and inconsolably. He hugged his older brother as tightly as he could, as if that could somehow prevent the inevitable from happening. They were staying at the Wheelers', seeing as their house was now under Demogorgon occupation.

Jonathan had told them that the attack was scheduled to begin in less than a week in the same tone he would use to announce the positive results of a cancer test. Joyce had broken down right then and there, and Will had soon after. Mike had done his best to comfort him, which Will was very grateful for.

There was a haze of unreality hanging over The Party like a dark cloud of misery. Surely this couldn't be happening? Surely Jonathan, Steve, and Hopper were not about to be thrown into the furnace of combat? The world had become a nightmare that everyone seemed to be collectively dreaming.

Dustin was horribly worried as well. Steve was his mentor, and he worried about Steve almost as if he were a brother of his own. Steve did his best to laugh it off and act as if nothing was wrong, which Will saw as a remarkable demonstration of character, especially coming from Harrington.

As the days until the attack slipped away, everyone held their breath. The fate of their country may very well be decided in their own small, forgettable and relatively unimportant town. Destiny had apparently decided Hawkins would play a role far larger than its diminutive size, whether its citizens wanted it or not.

To Will's utter astonishment, he saw Troy in tears on the day before the attack. To his even greater astonishment, Will could not help but feel sympathy for his childhood tormenter. His father was in Hopper's regiment as well, and Will knew what the bully must be going through.  _ He may have given me hell, but god I can’t help but pity him.  _

That night, Will found Jonathan sitting alone in contemplation, "Hey," Jonathan spoke in an odd tone.

"What's the matter?" Will asked, trying his best not to lose it.

"Nothing, just thinking. I don't wanna bother you about it, it's pretty heavy stuff."

"Jonathan. You're my brother, and you have helped save me twice now. I would be dead or worse if not for you. Tell me."

"Just thinking about death I guess. All that shit with the Upside Down and monsters and you being taken. Throughout all that, I never gave myself time to think I could get killed. I guess adrenaline and determination to save you just got me through it. Now though.."

Jonathan sighed, "Now, I am just wondering things. If there is an Upside Down, is there a Rightside Up? Do we go anywhere after we die? Will I see Bob again?"

Will stared at his brother, not knowing what to say. He had had similar thoughts on more than one occasion, but had never voiced them. Will suddenly found strength within himself, strength from God knew where, "I certainly think so. If it's like Heaven from the Bible, or something else, I don't know. But with all this insanity that has happened, an afterlife is pretty believable to me." Will embraced Jonathan, and to his shock did not cry, "Good luck tomorrow. Send those things back to the Upside Down. Give em' one for me if you can."

Jonathan smiled, "Yes sir, oh Will the Wise." He ruffled Will's hair. The two sat there for a while. Two brothers, one going to war, the other wondering what would happen, but both finding strength in each other's support.

\---

The American artillery barrage against the area around Mirkwood and the lab began at 4:00 am. Round shot and explosive shells pounded the entrenched aliens, and brought great cheers from the U.S. troops preparing to attack. There was only disconcerting silence for a response. The green troops took this to mean the aliens were simply cowards, and hurled insults and jeers at them. The more experienced troops knew the real reason: the aliens were merely conserving ammunition for the American infantry attack.

Alexander Gallagher, his unit attached to Galloway’s Brigade, part of the 1st Division of the 2nd Corps, was preparing to attack. The mood among the men was one of confidence. They had been preparing for this for quite a while, and the time had finally come to teach this invaders how real Americans fought. They were just south of the quarry, in wooded area but a small river.

Gallagher saw Brigadier General Andre Galloway gallop up to his unit, as it was the center of the attack. He dismounted his horse, drew his saber, and took his position in front.

“Brigade, at the double quick, forward, march!” With a loud cheer the blue coated soldiers surged forward like a tidal wave. On they went, cheering, laughing, some even singing. The first shell to burst amongst them replaced the sounds of joy with horrific screams. Gallagher was spattered with blood from the man to his right, who had been hit with a piece of shrapnel. They continued to surge forward, not with joy now, but with determination and bloodlust.

The faces, if they could even be called that, of the aliens who were dug in ahead of them could now be seen. They rose and fired a volley into the oncoming mass of blue. Alexander saw man after man drop all around him. A cannon went off, and at least a dozen men were shredded with canister shot.

“Brigade, halt! Ready, aim, fire!” the U.S. troops fired a ragged and uncoordinated volley, and began to reload. The sheets of fire being poured on them were dropping men by the score.

“Dammit! Goddammit! Fall back!” Galloway shouted, with genuine fury. Gallagher started to back away with the rest of the men, but soon, the attack collapsed completely, with men running in utter terror. Under the intense enemy fire, the retreat became a rout very quickly. Alexander was swept up in the panic, and fled for his life.

The day was far from over, and the carnage would continue… 


	5. Faugh a Ballagh

Hawkins, Indiana

Morning of December 2nd, 1985

Colonel Jim Hopper surveyed his regiment, now assembled and ready for battle. They were held in reserve by the Quarry, and were a magnificent example of martial beauty. The men were eager and almost giddy at the prospect of action. Hopper however, knew, or at least suspected how disastrous the previous day's fighting had been. It had him very worried.

Before he could dwell on his thoughts further, a rider galloped up to him. It was Brigadier General Thomas Baker, his commander, "Colonel Hopper, 3rd Indiana to the Front."

Hopper felt an icy chill go down his spine, combined with a strange thrill. This was it; he was going into battle. The look on the face of Baker was a cause of severe concern, and was all he needed to see to realize the situation. He was clearly close to tears, and looked as if someone had shot his dog in front of him, "Jim, I- good luck."

\---

Brigadier General Michael Flannigan drew his sword and dismounted from his white stallion. His brigade was to go forward, and he was damn well determined to kill those alien bastards. He took a deep breath and shouted, "Men of the Irish Brigade! Though I assume most of you are not actually Irish, you have all volunteered to fight under our flag! Our unit carries a proud history, and we all have big shoes to fill! Let no man say we did not do our duty this day! Fix bayonets! At the double quick, forward, march!"

An indescribable sound came from his men. A deep, manly, bellowing hurrah. They went forward, green flags at their head, with determination in their eyes, and hearts apparently free of fear.

The Aliens could see them approach and, like the day before, were ready for them. They had reinforced their entire position during the night, and merely had to wait for the Earthlings to come to them. The first volley tore into the 69th New York's ranks like a scythe through wheat. Men fell in neat lines, some mercifully dead within seconds, others writhing on the ground in agony. Fury gripped Flannigan, who roared like a demon and raised his sword over his head. Canister began to be fired, cutting men to ribbons and whistling right past his head.

They got to within 150 paces before he had to call a halt. His men fired back, and he saw several of the creatures at the wall fall or stagger. A mutual exchange of fire continued for several minutes, with the American ranks growing thinner and thinner as the bodies began to pile up. The aliens behind the wall took losses as well, but their gaps were immediately filled in.

Flannigan suddenly felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder.  _ He had been shot. _ He tried to shout encouragement to his men, but was hit again, this time in the chest. He swayed, teetered, and fell. The last thing he saw before darkness closed in on him was his brigade fighting to the last man, holding their ground as they were valiantly butchered. He mumbled weakly, "Erin go Bragh", and lost consciousness.

\---

Hopper watched with terrible awe as what was left of the Irish Brigade walked past his regiment. They were a shell of a unit, many missing limbs or barely carrying themselves along with the help of comrades.

His unit was next in line to go forward, and they were right next to the stream.  _ This place has a name.  _ "Mirkwood" Hopper remembered. "God, I know I don't pray really at all, but you know, now may be a good time for a miracle".

Hopper looked to his left and right. All around him he saw the faces of men and boys he knew. All in uniform, and all being squandered in a pointless attack. "3rd Indiana, at the quickstep, forward march!" The unit began to move. They were quickly across the stream. With every order he gave, Hopper felt the crushing weight of responsibility grow. Adrenaline would soon replace it.

The first shell burst overhead, dropping five men. Hopper looked towards the entrenched aliens ahead, and felt a shudder of terror and determination in equal measure. Another shell burst, quickly followed by the whistle of roundshot passing overhead.

"At the double quick!" The Hawkensians were now running, many of them roaring like wild animals. They could see the enemy clearly now. The inhuman creatures were crouched behind a hastily constructed barricade, and were aiming their muskets. As they began to fire, Hopper lost all fear. It was in the hands of destiny now. They would not make it to the wall, Hopper realized with a strange, disconnected, logical calculation. The moment the shooting had started, he seemed to have transformed into a cold instrument. "Battalion, Halt! Ready, Aim, Fire!"

The volley dropped at least a dozen aliens, but they were replaced by more, and continued to pour fire onto Hopper's regiment. Hopped saw Jonathan Byers take a shot to the arm.  _ My god. No! No!  _ A burst of canister tore into them, punching a gap in the line. The Aliens kept up their fire, cutting his men down and forming a steadily growing pile of bodies. "Pour it into em' boys! Keep it up!"

His men continued to fire volley after volley, but for every alien they hit, they lost at least three. Hopper saw Baker ride by on his magnificent stallion, showing the lack of fear characteristic of a man resigned to death. A shot of canister eviscerated both him and his horse. The next regiment over attempted a bayonet charge, damning the losses they took. Less than a fourth of them reached the barricade, and they were quickly cut down by claw, saber, and bayonet.

Canister cut down twelve men to Hopper's left. It was hopeless, "Fall back men! Fall back!". The Hawkensians withdrew, firing as they went. Hopper saw Private Walsh pick up the standard from the corpse of the bearer, only to be struck with a ball in the head. Walsh collapsed onto the flag, dead almost instantly.

Hopper was suddenly seized by an insane impulse. He ran to the corpse of Walsh, rolled him over, and picked up the colors of the once proud 3rd Indiana. Before running for his own lines, Hopper noticed the aliens had ceased fire. Hopper looked back, and his mouth fell open. There were bodies everywhere, corpses and wounded alike. The convulsive writhing of the wounded gave the ground a rippling effect, like some ocean from hell. But the aliens had ceased firing, and were emitting bizarre screeching noises. They were waving their arms in the air, some with swords. By god, they were cheering! He saw a Demogorgon raise a saber at him, and take a bow. They were saluting him and his men, in a display of respect, from one worthy opponent to another.

Hopper presented the flag to the first general he saw, and promptly broke down. He looked at what was left of his regiment, tears streaming down his face. Jonathan Byers and the scores of other wounded were being aided by medics and Red Cross workers. Some of the wounded moaned quietly, others screamed loudly, and still more simply sat in silence, unable to find a sound to describe what they were enduring.

_ All this, and for what? A heroic display which accomplished absolutely nothing but pointless slaughter.  _ Hopper wasn’t afraid for the future of Humanity, but that wouldn’t take long to set in. The war had truly begun.


	6. The Smile

Los Angeles

December 20, 1985

The Japanese troops marched down the streets of Los Angeles to tumultuous cheers from its citizens. At the front of the parade, a band played The Battle Hymn of the Republic. Behind them came regiment after regiment in perfect order. Neither Shinji nor Toji were particularly enthusiastic about the parade, but Kensuke had dragged them both to it, and would not stop chattering about the details of each unit that passed them.

Shinji and Toji both tuned out Kensuke's excited rambling, and merely watched the soldiers pass them. Shinji did have to admit that the sight was impressive. The troops came on and on, and Shinji's concerns about the recent defeat in Indiana lessened somewhat.

The news had been disastrous, and Shinji suspected it was far worse than the paper claimed. According to the reported news, the US army had met with horrendous losses in a failed attack on Hawkins Lab. After 4 days of fighting, the Aliens had counterattacked and put the US troops to flight. The Aliens immediately marched Southeast, and were likely attempting to take Washington. Total US losses in the war by this point had been estimated to be 125,000 killed, wounded, or missing.

As the parade continued to the point of monotony, Shinji found himself stressing about the war again. In California, thank god, the fighting had not been as intense. Still, several small towns had changed hands repeatedly, each time getting progressively more destroyed. 

The Galactic Empire's concept of justice was also discovered, in the form of dead civilians. Tales of the harshness of their occupation policies had been spread before, but now the first hand accounts and crude black and white pictures proved without a doubt that the refugees had been right to flee. Any form of resistance was suppressed with the utmost severity. The tactics used would not be unfamiliar to those of past generations, but to modern sensibilities as well as simple humanity, it was barbarism. Reports of hostage taking, collective punishment, and rumors of forced labor were spreading like wildfire.

Shockingly, the troops of the Empire had been conclusively proven to be human. Human beings from another planet were something that most found difficult to comprehend. It both simplified and complicated the struggle. It simplified it in that humans can be reasoned, but it complicated it in that the invaders were no longer simple monstrous goons.

Shinii was startled back to the here and now by Kensuke's loud cheering. Shinji looked up, and saw the unit he dreaded to see. The NERV Brigade with his father at its head. Gendo's eyes were fixed forward, and he gave no sign that he had seen Shinji.  _ Good. _ He had no desire to be seen by his father. 

However, Shinji was soon distracted by another sight. One young soldier had made direct eye contact with Shinji, and gave him a broad smile. The boy had white hair. and striking red eyes. Shinji wanted to look away, but in spite of himself returned a slight smile. He winked at Shinji, whose face flushed. He tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach, but never broke eye contact with the white haired young soldier until he was out of sight.

The rest of the parade passed by over the next while, but Shinji noticed none of it. He couldn't get the image of the smiling boy out of his head, nor the strange feeling that had come over him.

That evening, he, Toji, and Kensuke spent the night at Misato's, and attempted a game of Dungeons and Dragons. Kensuke was bubbling with excitement at the very thought of a roleplaying game, while Toji simply wanted to pass the time. Shinji actually found himself enjoying it, but his thoughts were elsewhere. This was becoming apparent to Toji, though Kensuke remained oblivious. Shinji desperately hoped Toji had no idea where his thoughts were wandering to. Toji either did not, or had the decency to act as if he did not.

The game progressed steadily, and by around 2:00 am, they had successfully dispatched the Necromancer and seized his hoard of treasure. Kensuke had run the game with his characteristic enthusiasm, and Toji at least had been engaged. The three decided to get some rest but not before Kensuke and Toji talked quietly about how attractive Misato was. Shinji sighed and tried to listen, but couldn't.  _ If only they knew what she is really like.  _ Both Kensuke and Toji went to sleep very quickly, but Shinji could not sleep at all. In fact, his mind was running so fast that he could hardly hold onto a single thought. He felt like running a marathon. A strange elation was coursing through his veins and overriding all other considerations.

After an image of himself holding hands with the white haired boy came flashing to his mind for the 7th time, he shook his head, "I can't think like that," he muttered to himself, "I saw a handsome guy smile at me. It's nothing. What the hell do I think is going to happen?" The elation turned in almost an instant to a sort of helpless rage and sadness. He wanted to scream, to throw things, to smash a window. Tears were starting to well up in his eyes.  _ Goddammit. Not now, not with them here.  _ Not only did he not want to be seen crying, but he dreaded the idea of explaining  _ why  _ he was crying. He accepted that he had these feelings well enough, but he still feared other's reactions.

After several tears dropped, he got up quietly and went to the bathroom. He bolted the door and uttered a silent curse at the no longer functioning fan. He sat down on the flow, and as quietly as he could, wept. The tears came and came, as he quietly sobbed into a wad of toilet paper. After what felt like hours, Shinji, with bloodshot eyes and a red face, collapsed onto the couch. Mercifully, he went to sleep immediately.


	7. A Bitter Draft

Eastern Ohio

December 24th, 1985

Retreat is a simple word; a word that conveys infinitely more to a soldier than to a non-combatant. The word can actually have a positive connotation to a civilian. It can mean a break from the monotonous routine of daily life.

However to soldiers, it conveys a level of horror that is difficult to grasp to those who have not seen men shot down in neat lines, or torn to shreds by canister shot, or left on the field to bleed out while their comrades listen helplessly to their pleas. To retreat is to leave behind the fallen and to abandon the citizens you are sworn to protect to the mercy of the enemy.

Nevertheless, retreat had been nearly all the newly promoted Sergeant Alexander Gallagher had done for the last 20 days. The rapidly disintegrating US Army was in a ragged withdrawal towards Washington D.C., with the Alien Forces hot on their tail. Attempt after attempt had been made to make a stand, but each time the Americans were defeated soundly and with appalling losses. They gave as good as they got however, and the Aliens were paying a higher and higher price for what appeared to most to be their inevitable victory. 

Gallagher knew that the retreat could not continue for much longer. The men were exhausted and demoralized, and if an attempt to muster some sort of defense was not made soon, the army would simply cease to exist. Rumors had circulated that fortifications were being constructed outside Pittsburgh. It seemed as good a place as any to turn around and fight, and a prepared defense would help even the odds.

Gallagher sighed; he had been marching for well over 12 hours. He saw a rider gallop up to Colonel Maxwell. The two men exchanged words for a few minutes before the rider briskly saluted and galloped away.

"Battalion, halt!" Maxwell's command startled everyone, but it was instantly obeyed. It was quickly followed by, "About face! Fix bayonets! By company into line! The enemy is closing in. We are to hold here as long as we can, to buy time for our defenses to be established ahead. Good luck, and may God be with you all!"

The men sprang into action. Gallagher felt the exhaustion leave him at once. It was replaced not with anxiety or fear, but with eagerness and exilheration. He had seen so many of his comrades killed or grievously injured and, in spite of his moral upbringing, he thought how good it would feel to dish out death rather than receive it.

\---

Hawkins, Indiana

December 24th, 1985

Hopper walked into the Wheeler's house. even though he had risked his life, and had now seen combat with these people, he still somehow felt like he didn't belong. Despite the lack of cheer, to make an understatement, the denizens of Hawkins were determined to show that life could still go on.

This was the first Christmas party Hopper had attended in a great many years, and he didn't quite know what to do. Jonathan Byers sat next to Nancy, with his arm still bandaged. "The Party", as they called themselves, were teaching Steve how to play D&D. Joyce, Ted, and Karen sat at the table next to a half-eaten roast.

Hopper couldn't help but feel at peace. Even as he saw the newspaper out of the corner of his eye. Even as the bandages on Jonathan reminded him of the tragedy that had struck Humanity. Even as he recalled the weeping Troy Walsh, demanding to see his father's body.

"Jim, come sit down!" Hopper was roused from his impromptu reflection by Joyce. He walked over to the dining table and sat down. "I wanted to thank you," Joyce continued, "You kept my son alive. You've brought both my boys home now." Hopper grimaced. It was technically true, but he feared Jonathan survived in spite of his leadership, not because of it.

"Joyce I…" Hopper struggled to find words. "I'm sorry. I am  _ so  _ damn sorry for letting him get involved. If he had been killed…"Hopper couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. The two looked into each other's eyes for what felt like ages to both of them. 

The uncomfortable silence was broken by Steve cheering enthusiastically after a successful roll. Joyce and Jim laughed loudly. The tension was erased instantly, and both returned to the festivities.

\---

Eastern Ohio

45 Minutes Later

"Here they come boys!" Maxwell shouted. Gallagher was trying not to hyperventilate. He was gripping his musket so hard his knuckles had turned white. He could see the Demogorgons approaching from just down the road. In front of them, Combine Synth Sharpshooters screened their advance.

Maxwell dismounted his horse and slapped its hind quarters. The horse galloped away. The horse at least, would be spares. The determined colonel drew his sword in one hand, and cocked his pistol in the other.

"Firing by battalion! Ready, aim, fire!"

Gallagher and the rest of the men fired a volley. He saw about a dozen of the Demogorgons and two synths fall. The rest, to his shock, hesitated briefly before continuing their advance.

But continue they did, at the same slow and steady pace. They held their fire all the while. "Make ready for a second volley boys! Aim and fire!"

The U.S. troops fired again, this time felling at least 30 of the foe. A Demogorgon with elaborate markings on his flesh raised a sword and emitted a loud shrieking noise. The aliens immediately charged forward. 60 yards. 45. 30. "Fire at will! Give it to em' boys!"

Gallagher got another shot off, hitting a synth in what he presumed was its face. The Demogorgons were dropping like flies, some tripping over their fallen and sprawling on top of each other. Alexander heard another shriek of a different pitch, and to his total surprise, the aliens turned and fled. Some helped bear wounded comrades, others laid down a masking fire, while still others ran as fast as they could.

Alexander and his comrades raised their hats above their heads and cheered. Their feared and seemingly unstoppable foe was fleeing before them. The sight was very much a welcome one. Alexander tried to avoid the creeping question of how much of a difference he had actually made.


End file.
